


Heartland's Song

by Trashratsaws



Category: The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Party, Rupert speaks Italian actually fight me, Skippable Smut, Smut, enjoy, i binged the whole series in one evening and this is the result, they can curse because i'm not restricted by podcasting niceties, this is very self indulgant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2020-12-27 11:14:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21117863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashratsaws/pseuds/Trashratsaws
Summary: There may not be many things that Rupert I of the united kingdom of Heartland was trained to be able to do, nor many things he was any good at whatsoever, but when the first ballroom in his new castle is constructed, both Amir and the kingdom learn that one of those very limited things, one of his only talents or redeeming qualities, was song. And Amir, for one, finds this very attractive indeed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy the tooth-rotting fluff I've created for some ungodly reason. 
> 
> Also if you haven't heard The Two Princes podcast, jesus christ go do it. It's fantastic we need more content like it.

“Slow down!” 

“Absolutely not, how can you even be calm at a time like this?” 

The castle staff whipped past them both as Rupert led the charge at a ridiculous speed through the corridor, which had only just been completed and was now in the process of being furnished, whilst a very desperate Amir followed close behind making his best attempt not to trip on said furnishings. It was beyond him how a clutz such as Rupert, adorable though he may be, could make it past the maze of rolled up carpets and confused maids and wait staff, other than by the sheer concentrated force of his excitement. And to what did he owe this pure joy other than to the very first - and very finest as they were both assured by the architects which had spent days and nights laboring over it - grand ballroom in the Heartland castle. 

Amir, of course, thought reasonably that Rupert was a bit disproportionately excited over this, but he also thought that maybe he didn’t quite have a right to say, seeing as he had never once - or at least hardly ever in his living memory - set foot in a ballroom. And he knew that Rupert, for his part, had been at the epicenter of many celebrations practically since the moment of his birth. 

“Amir, come on!” he said, at last, taking a moment to slow down and extend his hand for his lover to take. This was a moment of fervor but it would mean a great deal less if he hadn’t anyone to share it with. He could picture it now, the grand marble floors, the great pillars that rise up from the ground to the high, glass ceiling, through which millions of stars and perhaps a full moon are visible to the crowd that fills the room, flooding it with life and a teeming sense of wonder and vivacity. And he and Amir at the center of it all, dressed in their finest and dancing to their heart’s content while every eye in the room is fixed on them, knowing that there is nothing in the world that could possibly tear them from this moment- 

“Ru, I don’t get what’s so exciting about this one room.” 

The door that stood before them was as grand as Rupert pictured its interior, but the sense of wonder was lost on him. He had forgotten, of _ course _ Amir wouldn’t understand. He had spent every waking minute preparing every fiber of his being to end Rupert’s very life. With a life like that, who had time for parties? 

Well, that life was over now. They were here, in their own palace, in their own kingdom, which they both intended to lead with grace and humility and justness. Now they were free to have a little fun. 

“Amir,_ my dearest _, by the end of tonight, I will have done everything in my kingly power to make you understand just how exciting a ballroom can be.” 

He made extra sure to lace his words with a multitude of hidden promises that Amir was sure to find plenty _ exciting _, before whirring about and practically throwing open the doors. 

And it was perfect. The very ballroom of his dreams, why it was eve more grand than his mother’s favorite ballroom back in the west, it was bound to be more incredible, more luxurious than all of the ballrooms in his mother’s castle combined, he even dared to bargain than all the ballrooms in even _ Amir’s _mother’s castle. And of course when he turned to Amir he was… incredibly… underwhelmed. 

“It’s. Big.” 

“It’s bi- Amir! It’s fantastic!” he said, as he ventured loudly into the space and heard his voice bounce from wall to wall, like a very dramatic, very extravagant cave. He danced about the nearest column, a smooth pillar of shining, polished stone. “This is perfect! We’ll start preparations for the party immediately!” 

“Woah, woah, hold on now-” 

“There’ll be a huge feast, and everyone has to wear their best clothes, and we’ll be able to see the stars while we dance and-” 

“Rupert! We’re not having any party!” 

“And- what?” 

“Ru, this room just got built, and the castle’s hardly half finished, and besides we have much more important things to do than fill it with people and drink all night, there’s an entire kingdom to be run.” 

He said that, but Rupert looked into his eyes, his beautiful, stone cold eyes and saw what he always saw, some sense of adventure and longing for fun, for thrill, for relaxation that always won him his arguments. Amir was a stone cold king with a rulebook strapped to his… well. But he also had a fun side. That was the side that Rupert wanted to help him bring out tonight. And every night. That was the side that really needed attention right now. And Rupert was one perfect, ready, and willing attention giver, alright. He was going to attention him out of this _ world. _

“Amir,” he said, with a resolve that knew it had already ended the conversation before it had begun. “This kingdom we’re running? It was built on two foundations. One: that we defeated our fathers and took control of our lives because we decided that love was more powerful than war. We made that choice. I chose to tell you that I loved you with what I thought was going to be my dying breath, and by some _ miracle _ you decided that you loved me too. Right?” 

Amir sighed, because of course he did. They both knew the outcome of this conversation, because where he thrived in combat, Rupert prospered in argument-winning. 

“And two: we knew from the moment we met each other that we were very different people on two opposite sides of a balanced spectrum. You party too little, I party too hard. I suck with a sword, but you suck with putting yours down. We both need each other.” 

“Yes,” he sighed, defeated but relieved that he had lost. He could deny it tomorrow to the moon and back, but Rupert knew. He wanted this as badly as he did. 

“Trust me when I tell you. This is one of those times where I’m right. As rare as those moments may be. You need to loosen up. Have some fun from time to time, or you’ll work yourself to death.” 

“Hff, and let you run this kingdom by yourself? Not a chance.” 

“See? Need each other.”

“Of course I need you. I didn’t need you to tell me that.” 

“I know, I just like to say it.”

* * *

By the time there was a steady flow of people flooding into his castle, Amir had begun to wonder how he let himself agree to this. This was bound to be an entirely unproductive night. He was probably going to give into temptation and have a drink, and that would lead to more drinks and before he knew it, he'd be dancing like a fool at the center of the floor. Goodness, how dare he spend a single night drowning himself in such extravagant distractions, _ not _ working to build this bloody kingdom from the very ground up! He could practically see his desk in his workroom, calling to him with piles and piles of tedious paperwork upon it. Things that needed signing, planning, approving. There was so much to be done, how could he even stand here? 

“Amir,” came the voice of his husband to snap him violently out of the stupor he was hypnotizing himself into. It did not sound very happy. 

“Y-yes. Yes dearest.” 

“You have that look in your eyes.” 

“What, what look, I don’t know what you’re- I don’t have a look- you... What? What look, there’s no look.” 

“Mhm. So you’re not thinking about working right now?” 

‘No, not even a little bit, nope. Not thinking of work, no- not- nope.” 

“Then I’m sure you’ll have noticed that everyone’s here and you can close the doors and start _ enjoying _ yourself?” 

Amir did not answer to this, because there was no possible way to enjoy a night of pointless luxury when there were rather more urgent things that required his attention? And yet of course, Rupert was looking at him in that way that he did that told him there was something very obvious that he was missing. He softened, so that Amir could see his real face, concerned and comforting and soft and… well Amir just wanted to put his face on Rupert’s face, didn’t he? But… his paperwork… 

“Darling, look at me. I know you work hard and I know you’re desperate to get everything done but look. Look at me. See this? This lasts only one night. Our kingdom needs a little fun, and so do you. You can put off all that paperwork for one night and indulge yourself, can’t you? You need this.” 

He wouldn’t have made the most compelling argument had it not been for his hands pressing gently but intently into Amir’s shoulders, untying the knots that had been building up over weeks and weeks of organizing and signing and planning and approving… he hated to say that he wanted a break. But Rupert was right, he _ needed _ one. _ Badly _. 

And if Rupert’s lithe, skillful hands on his shoulders, making their way across his back and coming to rest at his hips wasn’t making him want to reach for a glass of strong wine…

“So?” said Rupert, low in his ear like the tempter he was. “Do you need more convincing?” 

Amir tried to think logically through the haze that was beginning to form. Some part of his mind was aching for this. A chance to let go of his troubles; all those papers that needed his attention couldn’t possibly need it that badly.

“As long as it doesn’t take too long, I suppose…” 

“Close. But we’re not there yet.” Rupert rested his chin on Amir’s shoulder while he thought. There was always something that made him budge, made him realize that self indulgence was occasionally necessary. What could it be now? It was as good a time as any, he concluded, to teach Amir something new about himself. 

With the clink of a glass, and everyone’s attention turned to him while his focus lay solely on Amir, he began, softly, sweetly, to sing. 

Rupert I of the united kingdom of Heartland was not good at a lot of things. Not nearly as many things as Amir, who had been schooled intensely since he could understand speech, and perhaps not as many things as, say, his mother, and certainly not more than any average person in his kingdom. But there was one thing he _ knew _ he was good at. Something he knew for _ goddamn _ sure Amir wouldn’t expect. And this was it. 

The song he sang, regardless of how his slow, melodic voice was making it sound, was not a very… family friendly one. In fact, it was the filthiest sailor’s sea shanty he knew. And he had done that on purpose. He was well aware of the noble-to-commoner ratio in his ballroom, and he was almost just as well aware of how many people in his ballroom were familiar with the song he was singing. And his knowledge was backed by the onerous clapping of the crowd, whooping and cheering and whistling as he abandoned the elegant tone for a much more rowdy performance, all throughout which he did not once take his eyes off Amir. 

Amir, for his part, was facing an internal battle. This was tempting, to be certain, and yet so far out of his range of expertise. Did he know how to throw a party? No, of course not. Did he want to hurl himself into the fray and sing loudly along to a lewd peasant’s song with a glass of wine in one hand and his husband’s shoulder in the other? Desperately. The dilemma he had posed himself of “should he” or “shouldn’t he” was beginning to get very cloudy. The voice of the love of his life was drifting across the halls, bouncing about in such a chilling way that made the light that shone from the moon above seem like the light that shines upon a siren, luring a work-beaten sailor into the sea. 

Perhaps he would just… dip his feet in. Test the waters. 

He didn’t dare even try to understand the lyrics through Rupert’s spectacularly crude accent and the shrill cheer of the croud, because the look on his face was saying more than the song ever could. But he wandered over to the table where refreshments were being generally ignored in favor of song, poured himself a very moderate and responsible serving of wine, and turned to the shenaniganry of his husband, who had somehow managed to obtain his own goblet, though his was significantly overflowing. He couldn’t blame his smile on the drinks just yet, so he decided he was going to blame it on Rupert and his intolerable charm. 

Halfway through the song and he had hardly made a dent in the glass. Well, he hadn’t poured himself all that much, and Rupert was downing the stuff by the gallon at this point, so he braved a swig. It was good wine, he thought. Though his opinion wasn’t worth much, because he’d never actually had wine before. He assumed it was good since Rupert had insisted it was, but to him it didn’t taste like anything special. It tasted rather bad actually. 

At the very least he had found himself a comfortable corner beside a pillar to rest by whilst everyone applauded Rupert and made their rowdy way to the dance floor to enjoy themselves and catch up with friends and be loud, while Rupert made his way towards him, most certainly already hammered off his ass. 

“Beautiful. Stirring,” said Amir, wrapping an arm around him without actually meaning to. “I loved the bit about fucking the lover up the ass, that part was very eloquent.” 

“Sung it just for you.” 

He braved another swig, and realised that this was the only way to drink wine without really tasting it, which was what he wanted. The party was going well. The people were enjoying themselves. He could see the merit to this. From a technical standpoint, of course; a kingdom with disheartened people was hardly a high-functioning kingdom, so perhaps there was some method to Rupert’s games and foolery. Though most likely he was just hoping for something else. 

“I like this room,” said Rupert. He was looking at the stars through the ceiling. Amir was looking at the people. Both of those things were quite a sight to see. 

“It’s nice.” 

“Mmn, you’re nice.” Amir felt a finger tap his nose lightly. Rupert was a fool drunk. “I told you you needed this. You were so tense before.” 

“Tense? I was not tense. I was focused and… focused.” 

“Mhm.” 

“You realise we have work to do tomorrow. There’s more construction to be done and-” 

“AH, you’re thinking about _ work _ again! Hon, just relax! Look, have another glass, get a little tipsy, go dance with your people. Have a good time, loosen up!” 

“You keep saying that but I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m loose. I’m plenty loose. Look at me. Not working. Partying. Drinking wine. Putting up with your obscene levels of shenaniganry.” 

“You see? Tense.” 

Rupert wondered if somewhere in his mind Amir could find it in him to understand what he was saying. Just one year prior, when they had met and fallen in love, it had been from a foundation of balance. They needed each other like the soil needs rain to make grass grow. Only with them both, together, could the kingdom prosper. Like grass. Rupert supposed this should be an easier concept to put into words than it was, but he knew Amir understood it. He was leagues smarter than him, after all, by several languages and a few degrees in swordfighting. So there was really no need for words now. All Rupert needed to do was _ show _ him. 

“Amir,” he said. “We don’t need to stay here, if you don’t want to. Loosening up doesn’t have to mean being at a party with lots of people.” 

“Are you suggesting we be… _ alone? _ How scandalous of you.” 

“You love it.”

“I dunno. I’ve never been to a party. Maybe I like it.” 

“Maybe you haven’t found out yet because you haven’t really _ been _here this whole time?” 

“... Maybe.” 

“Will you join me in the center of the room?” 

“I suppose I will.”

* * *

Rupert and Amir were a study in contrast. A baroque painting, if you will. The starkness in the shadow, that which is there to bring forward the light in a dramatic display of form and grace. Both light and dark working in tandem with each other, for both without the other, unfiltered, was purposeless. The world itself functioned in this way. There was day, and there was night. And there was one prince and another, never daring to be one without the other again. 

They danced across the dancefloor with all the grace of this balance. 

“_ Sei la mia Luce _,” said Rupert. 

“_Wewe ni Usiku wangu_,” said Amir, who himself was starting to think that this party wasn’t half bad, despite his lack of authority on the subject. For his first party… well, ever. It was going very, very well. There were people all around him, enjoying themselves, and it dawned upon him that these people… all of these people… whether noble or commoner, or the lowest of the peasantry… all of them were his people. Their people. Enjoying themselves. Laughing. Dancing. Basking in the fruits of all the labor that both he and Rupert had been intensely poring over for months. 

No, it was not perfect. But at the center of the dancefloor, Rupert was finally speaking a language Amir understood. It did not matter that some things were un-perfect. There was nothing in this kingdom, or any kingdom for that matter, that was or ever would be perfect. Amir had the falling, alarming sense in his gut in that moment that if he spent the rest of his life the way he had spent it up until this moment, he would never enjoy. Never cherish. He had wanted more than anything to marry the love of his life and live comfortably, happily. And yet he had somehow convinced himself that this was some unachievable dream. But look. There he was. Rupert, for however drunk he was, was with him, comfortable and happy. Their people, all around them. Comfortable and happy. 

This was no dream, this was itself the power of love.

* * *

The music eventually made its way into a calm, mellow tune in the time that the two princes (roll credits) stood dancing at the epicenter of the brilliant marble floor - one which had already started collecting scuff marks from people dancing and walking about - looking up at the stars. 

It was a familiar song to Amir, one that his mother used have played to her by a servant when she wandered about in the gardens, if there was ever a moment to spare for such frivolous things. There was a palpable air of romance to it, layered under the classic melodic sounds of Eastern music. Precisely one year ago, when he had been aimlessly wandering through the woods, searching, and failing, and fighting for his life, he remembered this very tune. It reminded him of home. 

And now he was the slightest bit surprised that his mood did not change when he recognized it. He did not feel any more comforted than he was, and he realized with a sigh and a breath of relief, that it was because he already felt at home. 

“Rupert?” 

“Hm?” 

“_ Nakupenda _.” 

“Huh?” 

“Nothing. I like your party.” 

“_ Our _party.” 

“Right. Our party.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little while into the party (but certainly nowhere near its conclusion), Amir and Rupert decide to abandon the festivities and head up to their room for some... private fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so if you know me you know my fluff almost always comes with smut because they're two sides of the same, very self-indulgent coin. And because I said so. So here's that. You can roast me as much as you want in the comments

Rupert was unaware of exactly when this happened, but at some point during the party, Amir had decided that he wanted to stop dancing and start  _ drinking _ . By the time Rupert had turned back around, Amir was almost drunker than he was. It would have been wildly amusing if Amir wasn’t a shameless flirt when he was drunk, which was not something Rupert knew before this moment, because Amir had never once been drunk in his life before this moment. 

In between the meaningless nothings that were being rapidly - and more drunkenly the more time passed - exchanged between friends and other assorted partygoers, they end up making their slow and steady way towards the door.

* * *

Less important were the details of just how they got there, but eventually they managed to get each other into the bed they both shared every night, to share it in a rather different manner, one which Rupert, for one, had been itching for since, like, 8pm. 

So he got down to the tricky business of undressing his husband, layer by layer by layer until he was tearing the buttons off his undershirt with one swift, aggressive move of his hands that he didn’t quite know he was capable of. But Amir sure seemed to find it attractive. 

They both spent a good while reaching for this and that, gripping every which body part, kissing, biting, like two animals in a frenzy. Wanting, wanting, and reaching for every spare inch of want the other could spare, and giving, almost quite enough to keep the other satisfied as long as they both existed on earth. 

This was all to keep Rupert at a reasonable levels of horniness so that he wouldn’t absolutely devour Amir the moment his back touched the sheets, a tactic that was relatively effective until about the moment the words “ _ ah, fuck _ ” escaped Amir’s lips. In a moment after that, Amir’s back was against the headboard and his legs were wrapped tightly around Rupert, who was gripping his thighs like a lifeline and kissing his neck like he’d never get to do it again. 

“Ru. Rupert,  _ hah _ , slow down,” 

“Mmh.” 

There was no way he was slowing down. Not with the way that Amir was moving, adjusting his posture underneath him and pressing against his body like a puzzle piece. And his breath was getting fast and hot and close to Rupert’s ear. And Amir’s arms were wrapped warmly around his neck, and he was saying one thing but his hips were saying something else, and there was something that Rupert found incredibly intoxicating about the fact that there were swells of other people in the castle, drinking, having fun, and yet the one who was in bed about to give Amir the time of his life… it was him. 

And he’d be damned if he was going to waste any time doing it. Without much time in between breaths, Rupert moved his lips to Amir’s just to feel the pressure of his head pushing back against him, making their kisses something aggressively passionate, a very welcome change of pace from the usually chaste kisses they share in the hallways. With his free hand (the one he’s not using to hold Amir’s legs up around him by the very base of his thighs) he moves to inch himself closer and closer to Amir, until every part of his body ( _ every  _ part) is pressed neatly against his husband’s. The mere thrill of being on top of him, drawing truly  _ obscene _ sounds from Amir unable-to-take-a-moment’s-rest-away-from-paperwork of the East, was getting Rupert worked up something  _ awful _ . And clearly Amir was enjoying himself just as much. 

There was something, a click in Rupert’s brain that went something along the lines of  _ oh fuck yeah so good, fuck _ , made him realize that this, the smallest repetitve movement, grinding down and up into each other, this was  _ working _ . So much that Rupert could barely keep his pleasure in his mouth. 

“ _ Amir! _ ” He moaned, out loud, without thinking. Which he would definitely be embarrassed about later, but now. Now it was perfect. “Amir _ , Amir, Amir~!”  _

Amir, in between breaths: “ _ You’re amazing,”  _

Well. Rupert enjoyed  _ that _ very much. 

“ _ Aha~! Ahh~” _ His breathing and his words (“words”) were becoming harder and harder to tell apart. He was close,  _ so  _ close,  _ amazingly close _ . 

“ _ You’re perfect- ah! Perfect!”  _

“ _ FUCK-!”  _

That was it. He was gone. Losing control, right in front of the love of his life, feeling absolute  _ bliss _ . And feeling it  _ hard _ .  _ How come we haven’t done this before?? _

In a second Amir was right behind him, and they both lay there, gasping as if they had just run a marathon. Rupert thought, in that moment, he could go again. He could go forever. 

“So,” He said, with his forehead on Amir’s shoulder. “Are you relaxed yet?” 

Amir nearly broke out laughing, but settled on just a brief giggle. “Yeah. I’m not moving for the next twenty hours.” 

“I told you. If you would take more breaks, we could do this more often.” 

“I guess I’ll have to start taking a lot of breaks then.”

“I guess you will.”


End file.
